


Ash Smoke and Steel

by NHMoonshadow



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Case Fic, Convin Secret Santa 2020, Creature! Connor, Good Parent Hank Anderson, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Urban Fantasy vibes, Werewolf! Gavin Reed, coffee shop AU, the RKs are brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NHMoonshadow/pseuds/NHMoonshadow
Summary: (Written for Convin Secret Santa 2020)Members of the Community are showing up dead in Gavin’s city. He tries to track down the killer before the body count gets any higher.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Ash Smoke and Steel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shootmewithasilverbullet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shootmewithasilverbullet/gifts).



> This fic is a gift for the Convin Secret Santa 2020 for Shootmewithasilverbullet, and I really hope they enjoy it! Sivi left me so many wonderful prompts that I had difficulty choosing, so I ended up picking a few and attempted to blend them together. Some of those include Supernatural AU (I chose the theme in general, not the TV show but I was sorely tempted!), Coffee Shop AU, and a few other tidbits on the wish list.
> 
> This almost had a steamy scene, but I chickened out at the last minute! (Buries face in shame)
> 
> Anyway! I hope you all enjoy reading it!

Gavin was so fucking _tired._

He’d been up since the crack of dawn working a job. 

Just, you know, not one that actually _pays._

People were showing up dead in Gavin’s city.

They would vanish, only to turn up weeks later, dumped like trash in the more abandoned parts of the city. Often mangled beyond all recognition. All the victims were different. Different ages, different ethnicities, different occupations, different social circles.

The only thing the victims had in common was that none of them were _human._

Which made it both his business and his problem.

It was rare, but it happened occasionally. They were very good at policing their own, and those that risked the safety of the Community were dealt with quickly, and often by their own family members. Sometimes they were brought to heel by volunteer enforcers, like Gavin, who were willing to step in if those closest to the perpetrator were either unable or unwilling to.

Those deaths were always done quietly, and out of the public eye. The bodies were subtly but deliberately marked to let the Community members know what they had done.

None of the recent bodies were marked, and Gavin had never heard of more than two or three in the span of a year. 

Gavin would walk the scenes, long after the police had left, picking up the clues they weren’t trained to look for. He spoke with the families of the dead, to get an idea of who they were, and if anyone would want to harm them. The Community as a whole didn’t really talk to each other, all agreeing to live and let live, and mostly sticking to themselves. Most were tight-lipped at first, but once they realized who and what he was, they quickly changed their minds. 

And so he learned that all the victims were clean. No enemies, no unusual behavior, or signs they had feared for their lives.

They were just gone

All he’d had up to this point were rumors, and a whole array of new scents that he could have gone the rest of his life without knowing. 

But this morning he had gotten a break. 

Word must have gotten around that he was on the case, because he had been approached by a horribly scarred dryad. She was nervous and jittery, trembling even as she handed him a scrap of paper with an address jotted down. 

“Go here,” She whispered, voice raspy and harsh in a way her kind never was. It was more jarring than even the ropy scars marring her beautiful face. “It’s where he-” she stopped, and swallowed. “Just, go here.”

Then she scampered away before he could ask her anything.

The address had led him clear across town to a basement below an old apartment complex. The basement was enormous, littered with small rooms and large cages, some stacked three high, with scuff marks on the floor suggesting that there had been more. His eyes found the odd bits of damage scattered everywhere. Odd stains and scorch marks here, gouges in an iron reinforced wall there.

And the _stench._

Bleach, blood, and the acrid tang of pure terror, plus so much more, it was nearly overwhelming.

Gavin had never been so grateful for his diluted lineage in his life.

As he completed his sweep of the building, it became obvious to him that at least three of the recent victims had been held here at some point, but no one had set foot inside for at least a week. Possibly longer. 

It was faint, but the orchid-scent of the dryad was here as well, the trail of it leading to a broken window barely big enough to crawl through if you were small enough.

Well, shit.

He suspected whoever had been butchering members of the Community had changed locations after one of his victims managed to escape.

Which meant Gavin was back to square one.

And he had absolutely nothing else to go on.

Now it was late, and all he really wanted to do was go home and fall face-first into bed.

Well, that _was_ the plan until the wind shifted, and Gavin changed course at the last minute.

He was so damn tired, but coffee sounded _so_ much better than sleep. 

No one was waiting at home except nightmares, anyway.

A bell above the door chimed as Gavin stepped inside his favorite cafe. 

The man behind the counter scoffed when he saw him enter. “Back again Reed? We’ve already seen your ugly mug once today, get the Hell outta my shop.”

Gavin clutched a hand to his heart, dramatically even as he walked up to the register. “That fucking hurts, Hank. _Wounds_ me even. I’m a _loyal_ customer!”

“You’re a fuckin’ _addict_ is what you are.” But the grizzled old man was already ringing him up for his usual. Medium blueberry mocha with four shots, extra whip, with caramel drizzle. “I feel like a drug dealer every time you order this abomination.”

Normally, this was an invitation to bark at the man, defending his beverage of choice. Expected even.

But Gavin was tired.

He paid cash, as usual, and put a few bills in the tip jar, also as usual. “Worse things out there to be addicted to,” he muttered, instead of rising to the bait.

“Right,” Hank said slowly. The man gave Gavin a look, but waved him off. “Go sit your ass down. You look like shit.”

“Still prettier than you, old man!”

Hank flipped him the bird without looking as he went to make his mocha. 

Gavin huffed as he took his usual spot, the one against the wall that allowed him to quietly monitor the entrance and the street beyond, courtesy of the glass walls at the storefront. 

Anderson’s Cafe opened two years ago, run by Hank, his sons, and several part timers that Gavin only saw sporadically. It looked more hipster than anything Gavin would usually go for, but the coffee was damn good and his apartment was right across the street. 

Plus it was open 24 hours.

Hipster vibe be damned, sheer convenience won out in the end, and Gavin quickly became a regular.

Which meant he soon noticed the surprisingly high number of Community members that walked through the door. Some Gavin knew, some he didn’t but some species had extremely distinct smells that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. Even now, a siren sat at one of the longer tables with two others. All three had laptops and a whole mess of books and papers spread out in the space between them, clearly college students cramming for something or other. 

Gavin thought of the dryad he had met this morning, and he couldn’t help but hope he wouldn’t be seeing the siren’s picture on the news. 

The sharp clank of dishes against the table made Gavin jump in his seat, a sharp inhale filled his senses with woodsmoke, ash, and steel. He blinked wildly at the plate sitting in front of him as it was joined by his coffee. 

He glared at the man pulling up a chair across from him. Connor Anderson was as put together as usual, his shirt buttoned up neatly, and his hair so tidily combed it made Gavin want to mess it up.

He’d tried to tap that, back when Gavin had first discovered the place, because, well, _who wouldn’t_?

He quit three days in when he realized Connor’s brother was much less tolerant of Gavin’s bad pick up lines than Connor himself was.

In his defense, he had no idea at the time that Connor was a triplet and that two of them were exact carbon copies of each other visually.

Hank had laughed his ass off at Gavin’s expense.

At least he didn’t get himself banned.

If he did he’d be forced to find another late-night coffee spot. Which would be a shame.

Gavin pointed at the plate sitting next to his mocha. “What the fuck is this, Connor?”

Connor leaned back in his seat, both arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised, and a smirk tugging at his lips. “I believe that’s called a cinnamon roll, Gavin.”

_Fucking smartass._

“I didn’t order it,” Gavin told him, in case it wasn’t clear. 

“I know,” Connor said simply. “It’s on the house.”

Gavin bristled. “I’m not a damn charity case.”

“No,” Connor agreed amiably, the long lines of him still relaxed and at ease in the face of Gavin’s temper. “But by the look of you, I’m willing to bet you haven’t eaten anything since we saw you this morning. Dad was right, you do look like shit.”

Connor was right, of course. He hadn’t eaten anything since this morning.

Like hell he was admitting to that, though. 

“You insult all your customers, you prick?”

Connor smiled. “Just my favorite regulars.”

“Favorite my ass,” Gavin grumbled, poking at the plate. “Is it poisoned?”

“Now, that _would_ be bad for business, wouldn’t it? Here.” He tore off a small corner and stuffed it in his mouth, and Gavin was absolutely _not watching Connor’s lips as he sucked his thumb clean of frosting._ “See, not poisoned.” 

Gavin staunchly ignored how his face grew warm. 

“You could be immune for all I know,” he groused before pulling the plate closer to himself so he could tear off his own piece. 

He played it off as a sarcastic joke, but that was a very real possibility.

It was something Gavin looked into as soon as he realized how Community members seemed to gravitate to the place. 

It didn’t take much to learn that Hank Anderson was 100% human. 

His sons, however, were _not_.

But Gavin had no idea exactly _what_ they were. Connor, and his brothers Niles and Seth, all smelled of ash and smoke, but the undertones were slightly different for each triplet. Gavin had never encountered anything quite like it. 

The Community didn’t talk to each other much as it is, and human mythology had so many inconsistencies, that it was a terrible source of information, even when it was the _only_ source of information. And it wasn’t like he could just come out and _ask._

Even if he did, there was a possibility Connor wouldn’t even know what he was talking about. Sometimes children fell through the cracks and got adopted by humans, blissfully unaware of their own species. Or, like Gavin, their attributes were diluted by human blood. Gavin’s senses developed late, but for some they never developed at all. 

Someone could potentially go their whole life without realizing they were anything more than human. 

It wasn’t Gavin’s place to say anything. 

But there was a murderer on the loose, and he didn’t seem to be picky. 

“When was the last time you slept?” Connor asked, snapping Gavin back to the present.

Gavin realized he had been staring at his plate for too long, so he reached for his blueberry mocha and took a long sip. Just to make sure nobody decided to switch it to decaf. But no, the lightly bitter notes of the expresso shots were very much present. 

“I sleep,” he insisted. 

“I’m pretty sure you push yourself until you pass out from exhaustion.”

“That’s not creepy at all. You stalking me, Anderson?”

Those brown eyes stared right through the deflection, his handsome face completely unphased. “You come in every day, and it’s not unusual for you to linger in the lobby. Sometimes more than once within a 24 hour period, and often at odd hours. It’s not difficult to notice patterns, Gavin. You’re paler than usual and you have bags under your eyes. When was the last time you _properly_ slept?”

Gavin pointedly looked away. 

The siren’s study group was packing up to leave, and Gavin was relieved when he realized they all carpooled together. 

She would be safe tonight, then. 

All the other victims had been snatched while they were alone. 

It made him think. 

And it made him worry. 

“Did you drive to work by yourself?” Gavin asked. 

He didn’t mean to, but he was exhausted and it spilled out before he could think better of it. 

“What does-”

“Just fucking humor me for once and answer the damn question.”

And, wow, he really must look pathetic, because Connor _never_ caved so easily. 

“I . . . No. Niles dropped me off. I was planning to drive home with dad when the next shift comes in.”

“Good,” Gavin said, probably way too harshly, but he couldn’t help it. “That’s . . . That’s good.”

Connor would be safe. At least for tonight. 

Gavin tried not to think on why that mattered to him. 

_Too long without a pack_ , his grandma would have told him. _A lone wolf is a dead wolf._

 _I don’t need a pack_ , he always insisted.

Besides, every pack he ever met clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and it usually had nothing to do with his attitude.

Connor and his brothers weren’t wolves, of that Gavin was certain, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be welcome there either. Not really. 

With that thought rattling around In his head, Gavin grabbed his coffee and his cinnamon bun and stood up to leave. 

“Gavin?”

“Just, watch your back out there, alright?”

Gavin beat a hasty retreat underneath the scrutinizing gaze of Connor and Hank, who was still manning the register. 

  
  


Two more victims were found next week, one of which was a kitsune who was supposed to be on their honeymoon. 

Their family didn’t realize that the couple had even missed their flight. 

Gavin was running himself into the ground searching for something, _anything_ that would lead him to the perpetrator. 

He’d hunt and he’d listen, but in the end it was leading _nowhere_. 

Another long night, another dead end lead, and Gavin was making his way home. 

He was still a few blocks away when he caught a whiff of woodsmoke, ash, and iron. He recognized the scent as Connor’s brother Seth, but what really hooked his attention was that he was drowning in the burnt smell of _stress_. 

Gavin rounded the corner just as _stress_ tipped over to the acrid tang of _fear._

And saw Seth being dragged backwards to the open door of a van. 

Gavin _snapped_. 

He sprinted forward, feeling his teeth and claws extend and sharpen as he closed the distance, lunging with all the strength he could muster. He leapt onto the would-be abductor’s back, taking a large chunk out of the side of the man’s neck with his teeth, his claws digging and tearing into anything they could reach. 

There was swearing and thrashing and Gavin howled as something _burning_ stabbed into his side, once, _twice,_ making him loosen his grip. 

Gavin was tossed over a shoulder and slammed back-first into a wall, head smacking hard against brick, only to collapse into a decaying pile of cardboard boxes below. 

“Shit, Gavin!”

His head was ringing and he was a bit disoriented, but there were hands helping him to his feet, and his nose and ears identifying them as _familiar_ and _safe_. But Gavin’s eyes found the bastard across from him and locked on. 

This was him, it had to be. This was the guy he had been hunting for ages. The one taking members of the Community and discarding the broken bodies when he was done with them. 

Gavin growled, long and low, steadying himself as he geared up for another attack. 

“Fucking halfbreed mongrel,” the man hissed, lightly touching the wound on his shoulder, seemingly more annoyed than anything. Like it was an inconvenience instead of a serious injury. There was a pocket knife in his other hand, lightly smoking even as Gavin’s blood dripped from the edge. 

Silver then, or at least silver plated, which explained why his side was on fire. 

Gavin wished he had torn through this fucker’s jugular.

A light glow bloomed underneath the man’s fingers. Static crackled in the air, and the wound began closing itself rapidly.

A warlock, then. 

_Shit, shit, shit . . ._

When the last of the claw marks disappeared as well, the warlock rolled his neck, the vertebrae popping loudly as his body realigned itself. 

“Unfortunately for you, my work has no use for mutts.” His face twisted into a wide grin as he stared at Gavin. “You understand, I’m sure.”

He said something else, deep and guttural, and _definitely not English_ , and accompanied it with a sharp flick of his wrist. 

Fuck!

Seth was suddenly in front of Gavin. He swept an arm in front of them both, an afterimage of blue fire trailing the motion, creating a barrier. 

Electricity cracked and snapped as two energies collided. There was enough force behind it that Seth stumbled back a step, forcing Gavin to steady him as the barrier fell. 

Gavin suddenly felt just a little bit out gunned. 

“Baby bird has some practice I see.” The fucker sounded so _delighted_ about it. Talk about creepy. “You’ll make a fine addition to my collection, I think. I’ve never had the pleasure of working on one of your kind. 

“Why settle for just one then?” A familiar voice called out, sharp and stern. 

Gavin turned to look, and there, at the entrance of the alleyway like the motherfucking Calvary, was the other two Anderson triplets. Niles hung back, looming like an angry security guard, but Connor-

Gavin felt all his hair stand on end.

Connor was stalking forward, his _ash-smoke-steel_ scent shifting to something different, something _hotter_ , like molten metal made flesh. His warm brown eyes were now burning pure white, as if he was on fire from the inside. There was a blue ripple trailing behind him that suddenly _ignited_ , and _flared,_ spreading the width of the alley. 

_Wings,_ Gavin realized. 

Connor had wings made of blue fire. 

_Well_ , he thought numbly, _that was different._

Which meant that Seth had probably used his own wings to shield Gavin.

The warlock threw more magic at Connor, and ozone seared the inside of Gavin’s nose. There was a heart stopping moment when Gavin realized that Connor _had no intention to block._

Because, apparently, he had no need to.

Connor never broke stride, the warlock’s magic diffusing on contact. 

The calm confidence of the warlock finally faltered, and after a second, and then a _third_ failed attempt, he actually looked _worried._ When Connor _still kept coming,_ the warlock panicked, he took his silver knife and _charged_. 

Connor’s response was so brutally efficient it was like watching a John Wick movie. 

Deflect, disarm, and then incapacitate.

In seconds, Connor had the man pinned face-first in the ground, that silver knife now jammed into the side of his throat. Connor’s eyes were still ablaze, as were his wings, and Gavin’s eyes were held captive by the motion of the flickering blue flames.

“I have killed warlocks more powerful than you,” Connor ground out as he dug the knife a little deeper. He leaned forward to whisper right into his ear. “And I know all the ways your kind avoid death.”

More blue fire burst from Connor’s hands. It spread rapidly, getting hotter and _brighter_ , until then were completely engulfed in a tightly contained ball of flame. 

And then it was over, almost as quickly as it started.

The flames flickered and died as Connor stood, casually straightening the sleeves of his jacket as he stared neutrally at the large pile of ash at his feet. Connor was always pretty, but here, now, in the wake of that fantastic display of power and control, Connor was _gorgeous._

Gavin’s head was still fuzzy, so he firmly blamed it for the words that tumbled out of his mouth without his permission.

“See, I always knew you were hot.”

Seth groaned loudly next to Gavin, while Niles was quietly laughing at the end of the alleyway. Connor, thankfully, looked mildly amused, as he always had with Gavin’s cheesy come-ons. 

Connor’s gaze slid from Gavin over to Seth.

“In his defense, he hit the wall pretty hard,” Seth told him reluctantly.

“I’m fine,” Gavin insisted, ignoring the fact that his side was still burning from the silver knife and his head was throbbing. He really should do something about that. 

But it was gonna have to wait.

Gavin cleared his throat. “So, you gonna put up the marks, or should I?”

When Connor looked confused, Gavin turned to the other two Andersons to see blank expressions all around. 

_Okay then._

“I’ll do it, it’s fine. I got it.” There was no longer a body to properly mark, but Gavin could improvise. “You guys really don’t know this crap, huh?”

“I can’t say this is a usual circumstance for us,” Connor told him stiffly. “So, no.”

Gavin staggered his way over to where Connor was, stooping down to scoop up a large handful of Warlock ash. He stepped up to the nearest wall and used his fingers to smear the ash on brick. First, he did a small capital T, then curved a larger C around it, and finished with a diagonal slash running through it.

“What does that mean?” Connor asked at his side. 

“Traitor to the Community. This is the general mark left on assholes like this one. But if you have more intel you can list specifics.” Underneath the first mark Gavin painted an M. “Murder,” Gavin explained, and then did an A below that. “Abduction.”

Gavin dusted his hands off and wiped them against his pants, and made a mental note to burn them later. He wasn’t attached to this pair anyway. Next he pulled out his phone and texted his buddy Tina the plate number on the van, asking her to run them for him, as well as any suspicious dirt on the owner. 

_You’ll owe me big_ , she texted back. Warning him. 

_I know_ , he sent back. 

He was sure he was going to regret it later, but he’d spent too long chasing this asshole. He wanted this to be done right, and preferably, he wanted it done by tonight.

“What are you doing?” Connor was still closest, but all three triplets had crowded closer. 

Gavin’s head swam a bit, but he did his best to ignore it. He took a moment to regain his center of gravity before he actually gave an answer. 

“You may have torched the creepy magician, but Seth isn’t the first in our Community that the fucker went for. I’m going to find where he’s been taking them.”

He needed to check for any survivors.

Gavin’s phone chimed. A name, a home address. A second address, and in parenthesis next to it _noise complaint 2 weeks ago. Owner claimed new art studio._ Then his phone chimed again just moments later. _There better not be another mess for me to clean up._

 _Not this time,_ he sent back.

He entered the art studio address into his GPS. It was four miles away. 

He began walking, phone still in hand, but the ground began swaying beneath his feet. 

“Gavin?”

“Connor, look, he’s bleeding.”

“Holy shit, did he get stabbed?”

“I’m fine!” Gavin barked, even as he braced against the nearest wall. Darkness was closing in on the edges of his vision, and his limbs felt distant. “I’m . . .”

Hands caught him as he fell. 

“Gavin? _Gavin_! Niles, call-”

The darkness swallowed him whole. 

  
  


Connor began directing his brothers as he held Gavin in his lap, applying steady pressure to the puncture wounds in his side. Niles was on the phone with Hank asking him to bring the car and the first aid kit. Seth had salvaged Gavin’s dropped phone and was forwarding the information of his would-be kidnapper to all of their phones. 

“Dad is on his way,” Niles told him quietly. 

“Good.” He brushed Gavin’s hair back with his free hand. “You think he mistook Seth for me?”

Niles was always the easiest to differentiate between the three of them. Though the youngest of them, he was a bit taller and his eyes were a striking blue to their common brown. Seth and Connor had been mistaken for each other on countless occasions. 

“Not a chance,” Seth snorted. “Gavin hasn’t called me Connor since the first time he did it. Does it really matter? He literally ripped out a guy’s throat to protect my ass, that counts as a win.”

“What were you even doing here?” Niles asked. “It’s not like you to wander off with strangers.”

Connor pulled his eyes off of Gavin to stare at Seth. He wanted to know the answer to that as well. Luckily they were close when they felt Seth call out to them , and luckier still that Gavin had been here to stall them.

“I’ve run into him a few times when I’ve gone out.” He at least had the grace to look embarrassed. “He seemed nice enough when we talked.”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Connor told him. Because he was. But that doesn’t mean he wasn't upset at what carelessness nearly cost them. “Now _never_ do that _ever again_.”

He almost lost his brother today.

Connor had done so much to try to keep them together, to keep them _safe_ and _free._ After everything they’ve been through, he couldn’t handle it if he lost one of them. 

“I’m sorry, Connor. I promise I won't go with anyone who hasn’t been to the Cafe first. Okay?”

“Okay.”

After all, Connor had spent a ridiculous amount of time warding the Cafe. No one malevolent could step through the doors, making it one of the safest places outside their own home. 

Soon Hank arrived, and together they got Gavin situated in the back seat, half of him lying across Connor’s lap so he could tend to his wounds. 

Seth handed Connor Gavin’s phone through the still open door. “Niles and I are going to check out that art studio, since Gavin seemed so focused on it. If it looks like the creep had a partner we’ll let you know and wait for you.” He turned to Hank, who was settling himself back in the driver’s seat, and smiled. “See you later, Dad!”

The car door slammed shut behind him.

“Never a dull moment with you three” Hank gave Connor a Look in the rear view mirror even as he turned the engine. “So, is Reed like you guys then?”

“Yes and no.” Connor pulled up Gavin’s shirt to more closely examine the wound. “He’s not completely human if that’s what you mean.”

The two stab wounds were smoking ever so slightly, and Connor recalled Amanda’s lessons about different species and their weaknesses. 

After all, what use was a living weapon if they didn’t know how to be effective?

“Is that normal for him then? The steam?”

Connor snapped back to the present. “He got stabbed with a silver knife. If he wasn’t at least half human, he would actually be a lot worse off.” Which was true. If Gavin had been pure blooded then there wouldn’t be anything he could do except mundane means of first aid. But given the circumstances, It might be best to use his fire to cauterize the wound. Unlike that of a true phoenix, Connor didn’t have the ability to heal others, but he could neutralize the effects of silver if they were mild enough. 

“What, you telling me he’s a werewolf or something?”

“Very possible, but there are a lot of species who are weak to silver.” He called his fire to his palm, cleansing and cauterizing Gavin’s wounds. “Shapeshifters, Lamia, certain types of fairy. It’s a pretty common weakness. Doesn’t really matter what he is, does it? It’s still Gavin.”

“Christ, kid.” Hank sighed and put the car in drive. “You really are gone for this asshole.”

Connor huffed out a small laugh as he reached for the first aid kit at his feet so he could manually clean and bandage Gavin’s side. It would scar, but that really couldn’t be helped. Not that Connor found scars unattractive.

And Gavin certainly had his fair share of scars.

Connor smiled a bit, “I guess I am, aren’t I?”

“Why do all my sons have shitty taste?”

“You disapprove so much, and yet you always make it a point to let me know if he comes to the Cafe if I’m off shift.”

“I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t.”

  
  
  


Gavin came to slowly, his mind adrift as he was surrounded by the scent of ash, woodsmoke and steel. It was comforting and familiar enough that it kept him from panicking when he woke up in an unfamiliar place. 

“Welcome back, Gavin.”

He knew that voice. 

Grey eyes blinked open. He couldn’t see much at first, cocooned as he was in an oversized comforter. He poked his head out from the covers to stare blearily up at the speaker.

Only to see Connor, who was sitting on the bed next to him.

One proper inhale told him that this was _Connor’s_ bed _._

In Connor’s _room._

_And he didn’t remember how he got here._

He had a moment of panic where he tried to leap out of the covers, only to groan and flop back down as pain lanced through his side. “Ow, _shit_!”

Then it all came back to him.

“Fuck!” He hissed through his teeth. “How long was I out?”

“Only three hours.”

_Three hours._

There was still time. He could still make it to that address Tina sent him.

“I need to go.” He rolled carefully onto his uninjured side so he could push himself up. He scooted away from Connor to make his escape, gritting his teeth against the pain. He gingerly touched his side and noted the sight tug of bandages beneath his clothes. As his feet met the floor, he wondered where the fuck his shoes were.

“There were four survivors,” Connor said casually. 

Gavin froze, and turned to look back at Connor. “What?”

“Niles and Seth went to that address your friend sent you.” Connor was offering Gavin his phone. 

He took it after a moment. It seemed okay, no cracks in the screen, thank fuck. He set it aside. “Oh yeah? What did they find?” 

“A nightmare.” Connor’s expression grew grim. “What they found was horrific. But four people were able to return to their families tonight.”

Gavin sighed, long and bone-deep. 

Good. That was all good. 

“How’s your brother?” Gavin asked suddenly. “The one who looks like your evil twin. Triplet? Never mind. You know the one.”

“A little more wary of agreeing to dates with casual acquaintances, but he’ll live. We’re not actually triplets, by the way.” Connor offered Gavin a glass of water he just now realized was in the man’s hand.

He took it slowly and then accepted the painkillers when he was offered those next. “Unless you’re clones, I’m calling bullshit.”

Connor chuckled, and continued as Gavin popped the ibuprofen and washed it down. “They _are_ my brothers. All of us came from the same clutch. I’m the oldest, by a few days at least, which was why l-” whatever Connor was _going_ to say died on his tongue. “I only recently began teaching them how to use their natural abilities. We were . . . Sheltered, before we found Hank.”

Well, Gavin was right on the adoption front. 

“So, your old man, does he know about . . .” Gavin made a vague gesture with his hands, hinting at Connor’s fiery wings. 

“Given how we met, there was no way he _didn’t_ know. But he took us in anyway.” Oh wow, Gavin liked that smile, warm and happy. “He showed us what family could be. 

There was a story there, a massive one, but unfortunately, Gavin thought better of pressing, but he couldn’t help but comment. “So he’s completely chill about the flood of Community members you see on the daily? Better than my old man.”

By the time Connor responded, Gavin was chugging the rest of his water. “I’ll let you know if I learn of anyone else. You’re the first one we’ve come across in a while. 

Gavin almost choked. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and squinted. “You’re kidding right?”

Calm, collected Connor actually looked confused. “What do you mean?”

His jaw dropped. “At least a quarter of your customers are members of the Community! You telling me you never noticed?”

“How would I be able to tell? The Community isn’t exactly known for being very open.”

“All that literal firepower but no super senses at all? Shitty deal.”

Connor chuckled low and quiet and Gavin tried to ignore how that expression _did things_ to him. “I have many talents, but identifying someone’s true identity at a glance is not one of them.”

Looking for something to distract himself, Gavin put his empty glass on the nightstand. “That why you put up with my shit?”

“I put up with your shit because you’re my favorite regular, remember?” Connor hummed thoughtfully. “Then again, you did help my family tonight, so now I have to take that into consideration as well.”

Gavin snorted. “What does getting my ass handed to me earn me then?”

Suddenly there was a fist grabbing his shirt and a hand touching his face, pulling him into a demanding kiss. 

Gavin was 100% on board with this turn of events. 

He surged forward, taking control of the kiss, and reveling in the taste and feel of Connor’s lips on his. His hands grabbed at Connor, pulling him closer to roll and pin him to the mattress. He pulled back a bit to nip at Connor’s lower lip, and immediately arms wrapped around him. 

Gavin broke away with a hiss of pain, as his bandaged side protested the action. “Ow, _fuck._ ”

“Shit! Sorry!”

Gavin flopped onto Connor’s chest as he waited for the pain to pass. “This is _bullshit_!” He whined. “I finally have you in bed and I can’t even fucking enjoy it!”

Connor laughed and Gavin liked it better think this, being able to feel it as well as hear it. “Well, there’s always next time.”

Gavin lifted his head hopefully. “Next time?”

Connor leaned up to kiss him again, this time slow and lingering. As he pulled away, he touched Gavin’s face, his fingers catching wonderfully against his stubble. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while, actually,” Connor admitted quietly, a small smile dancing across his lips. 

“Yeah?” Gavin asked, a bit dazed. “Me too.”

“Then it’s settled. There’ll be a next time.” Connor shifted to get more comfortable, allowing Gavin to slide into a spot a little less aggravating to his injuries. “But this is nice too.”

“Of course you’re a cuddler.”

“Don’t like it then you can leave.”

Gavin stayed. 

But as he drifted back to sleep, he knew he would be waking to a whole new chapter of his life. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This fic breathed itself into being because I couldn’t get the image of Connor with blue fiery wings outta my head and then I ended up with more plot and world building than I could possibly pack into this fic and actually make the deadline! There is an entire deleted scene where Gavin wok in the living room instead of Connor’s bed, Which also had Cole and Sumo, but as I didn’t know where to move the plot from there (to actually get a little bit of Convin content) it had to be scrapped. 
> 
> Other bits that didn’t make it into this fic include:  
> -Cole absolutely loving his adopted big brothers  
> -How Amanda hid Connor’s brothers from him from most of his life.  
> -How Connor killed Amanda, rescued his brothers, and literally crashed into the Andersons.  
> -More Details about Gavin’s Family History.


End file.
